


The Legacy of Nathaniel Northwest

by appending_fic



Series: The Age of Mysteries (Ciphers) [7]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Bill Cipher is a Monster, Deal with a Devil, Family Secrets, Fate Worse Than Death, Gen, Loss of Parent(s), Male-Female Friendship, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7551403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/appending_fic/pseuds/appending_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preston and Priscilla Northwest are the latest casualties of Bill Cipher's shenanigans. Left on her own, Pacifica reaches out to the only person she can think of to help. Dipper tries to help her come to terms with her grief, but also finds that the Northwests might have a longer history with the dream demon than he thought...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The nurses kicked Pacifica out of the room at midnight, so a few minutes before, the air greyed out, a bright triangle with a single bulging eye popping into existence.

“Hey, Llama! How’s it going?”

Pacifica shrugged. “My parents are still in a coma, _thanks_ for your concern, though.”

“Bad news about that, Llama. Comas, they can be one of a couple things. Head injury, psychological trauma, getting your soul ripped out of your body and fed to an evil tree. And in that case, the body can survive, oh, two, three days, max, without a soul in it. Which means in...about three minutes exactly, you’re going to have a lot more in common with Batman than you did this morning.”

Pacifica tried to keep her breathing even. She knew Bill Cipher - the creature had been the first to explain her parents’ condition, and had seen fit to introduce himself - wanted a reaction from her. But it was hard to keep the tears from gathering in her eyes, to keep her from curling up in ball of misery.

“And why is this the first I’m learning about it?”

“It wouldn’t have done much good - their souls were pretty much shredded the moment my buddy got his little woody maw on them. And before you ask, it’s absolutely hilarious watching you people in the exact moment they lose all hope. Yeah, like that!”

“Shut up, Cipher. You don’t know anything-”

“You know, your parents tried to convince me to trade. Your life for theirs - standard deal. Never heard anyone go to that option that quickly.”

“Shut _up_!” By some miracle, Bill took the hint, ending the vision without further taunts. Or, rather, he probably thought he’d done enough damage. Because Pacifica had been certain, deep down, her parents loved her. Maybe they thought the nagging and passive-aggressive comments and the _bell_ were the best way to show that, but she’d been certain they did.

But what did she know? She was a stupid fifteen-year-old, spoiled and rotten because of years of overindulgence and poisonous philosophy. She’d never had any idea about this supernatural stuff until she’d met the Pines'. And she’d never learned anything about love that wasn’t layered through fifteen layers of pretentious, snobbish bullshit.

She couldn’t stick around the hospital; Pacifica fled downstairs, paging her driver as she did. Once safely ensconced in the back seat, she silenced her phone and tossed it to the far side of the compartment. As the driver made his way home, Pacifica curled up and tried hard not to cry. Tomorrow - she’d have to deal with their deaths, deal with all the minutia that came with interring empty shells. But right now, she wanted to be weak, to let herself express something without any worry that anyone would look down on her seeing it.

More than that, she needed a friend.

Pacifica fumbled for her phone, ignoring the missed call, and found a number she used only rarely. Hands shaking, she made the call.

“Dipper? My parents are - are dead, and I need someone. Anyone. Please.”


	2. Chapter 2

It hadn’t taken much for Dipper to convince his parents to let him return to Gravity Falls in the middle of the school year. The truth was miserable enough that they agreed Pacifica needed someone with her. They’d even decided to send him on his own, for which Dipper was immensely grateful. Trying to deal with Pacifica was going to be stressful enough without his parents looking over his shoulder. Pacifica and him weren’t friends, even as they’d managed to become friendly, and even as he understood why she’d called him as opposed to any other person on Earth.

Pacifica didn’t meet him at the bus station; her driver instead was waiting with a grim looking limo. He called Dipper ‘Mr. Pines’, carried Dipper’s backpack, and let Dipper into the back of the car, where a privacy screen left Dipper in silence on his way to the Northwest mansion.

It left him time to worry. Pacifica hadn’t been very clear on the phone - understandable - but there were gaps in her explanation that had the shape of something magical. And the way things were going, it would be a bad idea not to suspect Bill.

The mansion was just as Dipper remembered it, ostentatious and domineering, and everything the Northwests had wanted to impress upon their neighbors.

Pacifica was at the front door, throwing it open as Dipper approached. She threw herself at him, grabbing his upper body in a stranglehold and pinning his arms to his side.

“You’re here! I didn’t know if you’d…” She took a deep breath. “Well, you’re here.” She pulled away and stepped back toward the house. “Come on.”

Dipper hurried after her, feeling a little out of his depth. Pacifica clearly saw more in their relationship than Dipper had thought, and it was disconcerting to see how much she wanted him here. Someone had taken Dipper’s bag, so he was left following her to the second floor, and along several corridors that ended in the door to her room. When he saw the huge four-posted bed, Dipper paused at the entrance.

“Pacifica?”

She’d already dropped onto a couch set near the door; she gave Dipper an uncertain look that reminded him that she was probably still in shock. “It’s not like anyone’s going to lecture me for it.”

The statement, or reminder, didn’t seem to set Pacifica off, which Dipper wasn’t certain was a good sign or bad one. He did enter, though, sitting next to Pacifica on the couch.

The room was different from what he’d expected. There were posters on the wall for more fantasy and sci-fi movies than Pacifica would admit to seeing in public, a few framed pictures that had an unpolished look that suggested Pacifica had been the one to draw them, and a long desk that was topped with stray Legos. The furniture, though, was made of old, sturdy wood, the walls and accents pale purple, giving the whole room the sense of a bright, adventurous child wrapped in old money and tradition.

He glanced back at Pacifica, abruptly, finding her toying with the end of her hair.

“Um. I’m sorry about your parents, Pacifica.”

“ _I’m_ not,” she snapped. “Maybe if they’d cared about me even a little, I would be, but they _didn’t_.” She waved in a way meaning to encompass the entire house. “It’s funny. I’m finally out from under their thumbs, and I...don’t know what to do with myself. Other kids would be - well, not happy, obviously - but expected to handle the funeral preparations. But we have _people_ for that. I’m pretty sure all the money’s tied up in trusts, and there’s going to be a ward or a guardian or something. But right now...there’s nothing. For the first time in my life, no one’s telling me what to do, and I have no idea.” She let her head fall against the back of the couch. “I don’t want to sit on all this stupid money and have nothing to do with my life.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pacifica. I’ve never - I mean, my parents - anyway, I can’t tell you what to do. Maybe you should just let it rest for a while, though. I mean, this is a shock-”

“This isn’t a shock. A shock is learning your parents tried to trade _your_ life for _theirs_!” Shocked, Pacifica slapped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late. He remembered when he’d first felt bad for Pacifica, seeing her parents force her down with that little bell. But this revelation didn’t leave any space for pity, just a slow-burning anger in his chest.

“I guess you’re right, then, not to be sorry.”

“But I _am_! Isn’t that stupid? I had to watch them slip away and I’m stuck here on my own and I _know_ they were terrible to me, and I still want them back! And as mad as I am at them, I hate that stupid triangle _more_ , because whatever they tried to do, he’s the one that took them away from me and I want to _stop feeling this way_!” Pacifica’s voice had grown ragged as she shouted, and at the end, she burst into tears.

This was more what Dipper had been expecting. He wrapped an arm around Pacifica’s shoulders and let her cry until her tears slowed and she pulled her head up to give him a tear-streaked smile.

“Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s okay! I...feelings are complicated, and I came to help you out with them. But...would you mind if I asked...what happened?”

Pacifica snorted. “Five days ago, they both collapsed, and they were in comas for like three days. Bill Cipher told me he fed their souls to some monster. He said they wanted to trade my life for theirs.”

Dipper took a shaky breath. He’d felt some reassurance in the knowledge that Bill had very little influence over the real world, a sense of security shattered by the reminder that Bill’s powers involved the ability to manipulate and even displace souls. 

“Do you need anything? Or do you just need me to...be here?”

“I don’t know!” Pacifica stood and began pacing around her room. “A part of me thinks you’re the person to call when bad stuff happens. But another...you’re the only person I _can_ call about _anything_. And I don’t know - I want to know what happened, why Bill Cipher went after my parents, and why they _hate_ me. And I want to be _done_ with this and go _on_ with my life!”

“I don’t think you can do that until you know what happened.”

Pacifica sighed and let her head droop. “I know.” She hugged her arms around herself as she took a few steps back toward Dipper. “Are you going to help me?” Her voice went a little high, harsh, and challenging, and that made Dipper pause. His first instinct, to say he was always ready to investigate mysteries, suddenly seemed a little...insensitive? Saying they needed to find out what Bill was up to was...probably a little too mercenary. What would Mabel do?

“Sure; what are friends for?”

Pacifica lunged at him, and Dipper was getting worryingly used to sobbing teenagers using him as a support. “Thank you,” she murmured as she soaked Dipper’s vest. “I don’t want to dig around this place on my own and...thanks.”

Dipper patted her back until Pacifica seemed cried out for the moment. She rubbed at her face as she backed away, smile almost gentle. “I bet my eyeshadow’s wrecked. Give me five, and we can go hunting for the Northwests’ dirty laundry.”

“Really?”

Pacifica, halfway to a door that was probably her bathroom, paused and gave Dipper a scowl. “Yes. I may be miserable and on the edge of a nervous breakdown, so the least I can do is look amazing.”

Dipper waited the few minutes it took Pacifica to prepare and emerge in a new outfit, her makeup concealing the evidence of her crying fit. She didn’t look...pretty, though. Dipper shook his head, trying to clarify the thought. Pacifica _was_ pretty, but her makeup was utilitarian, almost severe, and while her clothing probably cost more than Dipper’s entire wardrobe, it looked like something Pacifica was willing to get dirty.

“What?” she snapped, and Dipper glanced away hurriedly, aware he’d been staring.

“Sorry, I just-”

“I _know_ it’s tacky, but the last time you dragged me around this house I ruined a perfectly good dress.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Whatever. Come on.” Pacifica threw open her door, and Dipper stumbled after her. He was beginning to think that not only had he never known who Pacifica was, _she_ might not have, either. The Pacifica he’d first met would never have deigned to look tacky for the sake of mere function; that she was willing to do so suggested she’d re-evaluated what she cared about.

“We’re checking the library first; my parents seem the type to go in for that Scooby Doo crud.” And it was still startling when Pacifica threw out references like that. It was clear for all her parents’ influence, Pacifica had a deep streak of...something in her. Geekiness or curiosity or imagination or something.

But Dipper kept his mouth shut, just watching Pacifica. He’d seen her in this house before, moving with the fear of what would happen if she stepped out of line, but now she moved with deliberate strides, confident as if she owned the place - which she did, he supposed. Without the looming threat of her parents’ displeasure, a part of her was starting to bloom.

He ran into Pacifica’s back, as she’d stopped at the entrance to a large room. Correction: an enormous room, lined with sturdy, ancient shelves. There must have been…

“Thousands of books in here, every one a first edition, most signed by the author.” Pacifica gave Dipper a thin-lipped smile. “I don’t think my parents have read a single book here. I hadn’t, either.”

“And now?”

“If no one else is going to be able to read these books, I ought to, at least.”

Pacifica stalked across the library floor towards a heavy desk set near the ostentatious windows that reached to the room’s ceiling, leaving Dipper to explore the stacks. There were, indeed, thousands of books, and stocking the library had likely taken a small fortune...or, he amended, remembering the paintings hidden in the mansion, lifetimes of bribery and theft.

It was a few minutes before Pacifica let out a frustrated groan. Dipper looked away from a leatherbound set of ‘The Lord of the Rings’ to see Pacifica’s head hit the surface of the far desk.

“Everything okay?”

“I _know_ they stuck something in this library; I just can’t _find_ it!”

Dipper ambled away from the shelf to Pacifica’s side, staring down at the desk, which she’d ransacked in an attempt to find...something, he still wasn’t sure what she wanted to find. What she had was mostly stacks of crumpled correspondence.

“I don’t think you’re going to find answers in the desk, unless there’s a hidden drawer you missed-”

“I know I don’t look like a reader, but when I was eleven, I read the _entire_ Nancy Drew library,” Pacifica said icily.

“Um, congratulations?”

“Long story short, I did _not_ miss a secret drawer.”

Dipper nodded rather than argue with that, but…

“And why haven’t you checked the bookshelves?”

“What would I-” Dipper could see the moment Pacifica got what he’d suggested, as her face fell into a scowl. “Oh _God_ ,” she muttered. “Sure. Why not? I’ve got nothing to do for the next week.”

“Wait, wait.” Dipper grabbed Pacifica’s arm as she tried to stalk off. She paused, giving him a half-frown. “What are you looking for? If this is some Scooby Doo crud, it’s going to be hidden with some book with an ironic name.”

Pacifica’s eyes narrowed before she reached out and carefully pried Dipper’s fingers from her arm. “You’re absolutely right. Come on.”

She moved with assurance across the library to an apparently arbitrary point on the shelves, and gave Dipper an actually genuine smile as she waved a hand at the shelf.

Dipper leaned in close and let out a surprised huff when he saw the books there. Just one, actually.

“Marlowe?” he asked.

Pacifica pulled the book out and gave Dipper a knowing smirk, because behind the Northwest’s copy of ‘The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus’ was a lever set into the wall.

“Well,” he said, “I guess you were right.”

Dipper reached up and pulled the lever; the wall shuddered as a small section of bookcase next to the lever sank into the floor, revealing a well-worn stone staircase winding down. He looked back at Pacifica, who shrugged, and took the lead heading downward. The hall was a little dusty, but there was a regular path through it, and the dust had the mark of having been regularly disturbed, as if by passage by people who didn’t see much point in dusting.

Of course, Dipper realized, the Northwests wouldn’t have allowed _servants_ down here, and dusting _themselves_ would be unheard of.

“God, it’s disgusting down here. First thing I’m doing is taking a...a thing down here. Are feather dusters a thing, or just something you see on TV?”

Dipper grinned to himself; it was nice seeing the emergence of who Pacifica Northwest really was. And then he stumbled because he’d reached the place that the Northwests had hidden behind the story of Doctor Faust.

“Holy shit.”

Dipper had to agree with the exclamation, because…

The room was a paranormal investigator’s wet dream - packed full of gleaming treasures, items glittering with strange light and eldritch power, items stolen from civilizations far beyond what humanity could do…

“Well, no _wonder_ your family’s got so much money.”

Pacifica shook her head, stepping into the room around Dipper. She reached out to an angled blue gem hanging from a necklace wrapped around a sculptured bust’s throat.

Dipper slapped her hand away, earning a brief, furious gaze.

“Don’t touch something like that if you don’t know what it does.”

Pacifica’s glare faded, and she actually smiled, gently, back at Dipper. “You’re right. Stupid of me. But you’re...also wrong. _This_ isn’t the source of our wealth.” She looked down at the book that had concealed the entrance to the room. Very carefully, she cracked it open, releasing a folded packet of paper. “ _This_ is.”

Dipper slid back toward Pacifica, interest piqued. “Did you know that was there?”

“Not for certain, but possessions are just a way to keep score. The real power’s in the right documents.” She’d unfolded the paper as she spoke, and paused, suddenly, as she made a quiet gasp.

“Pacifica?”

“No wonder we’re so horrible,” Pacifica said. She handed over the paper and stormed from the room.

Dipper considered going after her, but she certainly knew what she was doing, and didn’t need his help in her own home.

And he was curious.

_’I, Nathaniel Northwest, do, of my own free will, and uncoerced by any outside power, enter into a contract with the entity known as Bill Cipher, herein referred to as the grantor. For wealth and power, for me and my descendents, herein referred to as the beneficiaries, ad infinitum, a prize further defined in Addendum A, the beneficiaries will fulfill a single request, defined at one time by the grantor to the the beneficiaries. This contract may be vacated by any beneficiary for that individual and all their descendants, so long as there is another living beneficiary...’_

It continued on like that for some time, but Dipper didn’t have the energy to digest it. What he’d read was already bad enough. He’d wondered if the assertion that Nathaniel Northwest was a half-wit was an exaggeration, but seeing evidence the man had entered into a contract with Bill Cipher, the cost of which was a _blank check_ , proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that the man was as much of a moron as had been represented to Dipper.

He looked up at the room full of treasures and wondered if Pacifica was right, that these weren’t the source of their wealth. If so, their presence was still a mystery.

Figuring he could do more good for Pacifica trying to figure out what her family had been up to, Dipper rolled up his sleeves and got to work.

There was no convenient labels or little map like the lids of boxes of assorted chocolates, but there was a journal that detailed the acquisition of a number of the items, and yeah, even though Bill Cipher had very little to do with them, it still creeped Dipper out.

But he couldn't poke around down here forever, and eventually returned upstairs. She read the letter once, and then, lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line, told him they needed to eat.


	3. Chapter 3

‘Dear Pacifica,

‘Finding this, you must now know the secret of the Northwest family, what we have given up for the wealth to which you have been accustomed.

‘I am tempted to apologize, but my complicity in our ancestral bargain erodes the sincerity of such an apology. I made the decision to place the burden of our contract on your shoulders.

‘Obviously, no wealth born of our involvement with the fiend is sufficient to pay our debt, and so is the purpose of this hidden place. This world is home to many strange things, and many stranger things have found their way to us. It is our hope, as it was Nathaniel’s so long ago, that among these artifacts is something that may match the payment that shall one day come due.

‘I cannot speak of what you will do when you come into the knowledge of this contract, but I will offer advice. Make no further deals with the fiend. But summon him, once, and demand to know the nature of our contract. On this matter, he cannot lie, and it is of utmost importance you know whether our family has any further obligation to him.

‘Do not speak of this matter where triangles linger, within range of his eye.

‘With love, Your Father’

Pacifica set the letter down and took a slow, careful scan of the hidden room. She’d read the letter a dozen times, and evaded every question Dipper had asked about Cipher. She’d...thanked him for taking the time to help her, but had faltered after that, and sent him on his way.

She wasn’t certain she wanted anyone around right now; she was the last Northwest, and that meant all the responsibility that entailed fell on her shoulders alone.

She squared her shoulders and climbed from the hidden room. Once she was certain it was concealed again, Pacifica retired to her father’s study, settling carefully at the chair and taking a deep breath.

“Bill Cipher, I need you to answer a question about our contract.”

\---

Priscilla shook her head. “No. We can’t.”

Bill held up a yellowed scrap of paper. “This contract says you have to, so I think you _can_.”

Preston stepped forward between his wife and Bill, resisting the urge to quail away when that baleful eye turned on him. “Surely we can trade something else. _Anything_ but our little girl. Take me, instead!”

“Hm.” Bill drifted closer, eye narrowing as he examined Preston. He tried not to shift, hoping that the demon would see something-

“I don’t think so. There’s not enough, what do you call it, juice, in your spirit.”

“Then take both of us.”

The triangle paused at Priscilla’s comment; Preston held his breath. It was desperate, and the thought of leaving Pacifica to survive on her own seemed highly irresponsible, but if the alternative was sacrificing her soul to a dream demon…

“Okay. Two souls for one, I can do that. But we gotta do this now. No time for heartfelt farewells or secret messages.” 

Priscilla glanced at Preston; he doubted even a wink would get past Cipher, so he just hoped she understood that Pacifica would be provided for. With their side of the contract fulfilled, Pacifica would have wealth unburdened by the need to prepare for paying the debt incurred generating that wealth.

And maybe...it was a chance to show her that her parents loved her, despite everything.

“Alright,” Priscilla said.

“Go ahead,” Preston said.

“Don’t mind if I do!”


End file.
